Angels and Ministers of Grace
by witchofnovember
Summary: Angels and Ministers of Grace, defend us. (JoshDonna Angst) .COMPLETE (Both Chapters Uploaded)
1. Ministers of Grace

AUTHOR'S NOTES: JenWilson's "The Journal" does this so much better than I can. But I had this scene in my head, playing out again and again and needed to find a way to put it into words.

SPOILERS: Hell. Everything after "A Change is Gonna Come"… That would be a safe bet.

P.S. Believe it or not, I made myself cry when I wrote this.

**xxx**

I bet you never thought I would keep a diary again, did you?

Truthfully, neither did I. Not after the hearings, the depositions, the night by the fountain, …Cliff.

After that, I figured it would be best to just keep the running commentary in my head. Maybe that's where I went wrong, why I was so angry in those last few days. But I didn't want to be a liability to you again.

I didn't want to put you at risk.

But here I am, with this beautiful blank book that C.J. gave to me, open and empty in front of me and why not? This journal is really beautiful. It's the kind of thing I would never buy for myself, but you could expect from C.J.

So, I am sitting here in your incredibly oversized, blue pajamas on this old bed with the worn, comfortable quilt, writing in this diary.

And I miss you… desperately.

**xxx**

Josh, Joshua, Josh.

If you were here, I'd smack you on the back of the head for being stupid. Then I would kiss you for being amazing. And then, I think, I would smack you again on general principle. You deserve it.

Why are we always apart when the shitty stuff goes down? Can you tell me that? Rosslyn, Gaza, and now this. God. For once, I'd like to face something together, the two of us. I think we could handle anything if the two of us were together, don't you? We're like two Shakespearean characters from one of the tragedies.

"Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us…"

Did you know there are theories that Shakespeare didn't write all of the works we attribute to him? There's a little tidbit for you.

**xxx**

I'm really sorry we fought that day. The day you told me you were going to campaign for Santos.

You were right, in the end. He is a great man and the real thing, as C.J. would say. I didn't see it then, but I see it now. He's like the President was in the early days. Seeing him like this makes me think of those times more and more.

It wasn't that I didn't want to work with you. You weren't that bad of a boss, after all. I mean, there were the long hours, and the crappy assignments, and the hand holding, and the constant organization, and the phone calls. But it really wasn't that bad. And it was the White House. And it was an experience of a lifetime. And it was with you.

It's just that I wanted to know what I could do on my own. The only thing I really ever did on my own was driving to New Hampshire that first time – before that was Dr. Freeride and after that was you. I didn't know who I was other than "Josh Lyman's Assistant." For once, I just wanted to be "Donna Moss." Going to work for Russell was something I needed to do to find out who I was. I'm sorry it hurt you.

I never meant to hurt you.

But you were right about Santos. I just wanted to let you know that.

**xxx**

Philadelphia? Whenever I used to think of Philadelphia, I thought of the time we stopped there on the first Bartlet campaign and you took me to see the Liberty Bell. You recited the entire freaking Declaration of Independence for me while a group of 60-year old women watched. It was embarrassing, Josh. But, I have to admit, I admired you that day. It wasn't just that you knew the entire damned thing, but that you could recite it as if every word had special meaning. It was a sight to behold.

It's not what I think of when I think of Philadelphia, now.

Damn you for taking that away from me.

**xxx**

Will was the one who told me. You know, Will of the good cop/bad cop act? I can't help but remember that night when I see him. What a wonderful night. You threw snowballs at my window and gave me your coat.

Will was so new to everything and so confused by all of us. But he jumped right in with both feet. I guess that is what you have to do to survive in Washington. Just jump in and pray hard. He lost a little bit of his idealism after he jumped. But, I think we all did now that I look back. Sam, Toby, C.J., even you at the end. Well, even me at the end, too.

So, he had to be the one to tell me. Poor Will.

**xxx**

By the time I got to Philadelphia, they had already performed what surgery they could.

Leo was there. I don't know how he got there ahead of me, but he had the President's travel agent. That probably helped. I had forgotten what you can do when you have the President's travel agent.

Leo hugged me and when he did, I knew that this time was different from the last. Leo looked old, Josh, so old. In my head I compare what he looked like when I got to New Hampshire against that night, in the hospital. He looked awful – like he had aged 30 years. I was so worried about him.

He called you his "son" and he cried.

**xxx**

When they told me what happened, I have to admit that I couldn't believe that you, the most unobservant man in the entire world, a man who wouldn't know the meaning of the word "observant" unless you tripped and fell on a dictionary open to that entry, saw the gun.

How did you do it, Josh? Did the sun shine on it a certain way? Did the guy holding it make a funny movement that caught your eye?

They couldn't tell me. And you know what? I don't think I want to know. I don't want to think about what you thought in those moments.

Wait.

Yes. Yes, I do. I want to know, Josh. Did you think of Rosslyn? Matt Santos? Your Dad? Joanie? Me? Did you hesitate? Did you know that you would save him if you took one step to the left?

Were you afraid? I hope you weren't afraid, Josh.

Please tell me you weren't afraid.

**xxx**

In those two days in the hospital, you said a lot of things. I don't know if you were awake and aware or if you were talking in a daze, but I heard them. You don't have to worry about that, if you have been.

I know you, so I _know_ you have been. So don't worry, ok?

I heard them.

**xxx**

The President's eulogy was amazing.

Then again, President Bartlet was always an incredible speaker. I used to wonder if it was Sam and Toby's writing, or the President's ability to speak, or a combination of both, that made him take my breath away. They made magic, the three of them, in those years we all were together.

Sam was there. C.J., Toby, Charlie, everyone. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but it's hard for me to think back to that day. There's too much there that's still too hard.

Sam took care of me, just like he did in the hospital all those years ago. He held me up, Josh. He loved you. That's something else I thought you should know.

President Bartlet cried. He didn't cry at Mrs. Landingham's funeral. He didn't cry when Zoe was kidnapped. He didn't cry all those times when most of us would have broken down, but he cried for you.

I do remember that.

**xxx**

C.J. and Toby miss you. We've been out to dinner a few times. I talk to them on the phone once a week. C.J. told me to write your story – that's why she gave me the journal.

Toby can't mention your name. I know things were bad at the end, between you and Toby. I wish it had been different.

But, I wish now that a lot of things had been different.

**xxx**

The Bartlets brought me to New Hampshire after the Inaugural. That's where I am now. In a farm house in Manchester, under an old quilt in your big, blue pajamas. You would mock me for this, I know.

Your guy won, by the way. I know you are proud about that. The election was brilliant and your guy won. You helped get the first minority elected to the White House. That is your legacy.

I think your Mom would have wanted grandchildren more.

The President and Mrs. Bartlet have been incredible to me over the past several months. President Bartletoffered me a position with the Bartlet Library – organizing his papers to be moved from the White House to the Library. I'm thinking of taking it. Even if it is just to get the ball rolling.

You're laughing. The idea of me, as a librarian, is causing you to snort and laugh.

But, in a way, it will keep me near you. You are in those papers, Josh. All your work and all your dreams. If it means I can be with you a little while longer, I'll take it.

**xxx**

I'm sorry I wasn't there, Joshua. I think about that every day.

Maybe if I had been there, I could have done something. Maybe if I had been there, I could have convinced you to walk with me. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Sometimes it's all I can hear in my head.

Maybe if I had been there, I would have seen the gun first.

**xxx**

It's dark outside now.

Sometimes, when I curl up really tight, under this old blanket, I think of those first days in New Hampshire, when we had everything in front of us. I can get myself to the point where I almost believe that I'm there. That you, Sam and C.J. are downstairs in the bar arguing about the things we will do when we get to the White House. That Toby is off watching the basketball game, smoking a cigar.

And that tomorrow we will go off to fight the good fight.

I don't think I can write anymore tonight. I think I want to curl up under the blanket and think of New Hampshire.

I'm sorry, Joshua.

I wish I had been there.


	2. Angels

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote Chapter 1 and then thought "What if we could hear Josh's point of view about what happened?"

Nothing like some PMS to make for some angsty thoughts.

Here it is. Josh's POV.

**xxx**

I see you, Donnatella.

You are sitting in those huge, blue pajamas that C.J. gave me. You're practically swimming in them. You could fit two of you in them.

And you've been crying. You know how I feel about women and crying, Donna. You have to stop that.

And yes, I know what you wrote in your diary.

**xxx**

Don't be sorry for spreading your wings. Don't ever be sorry for trying to find out who you are. Life is too short for you not to live.

I was an ass for not realizing that sooner.

The day you went to work for Russell, I swear I would have physically restrained you and kept you with me if I thought it would do any good. I couldn't believe you would leave me. Me! Of all people!

But I couldn't do it. You were so determined to make your own way. And I couldn't offer you what Russell could – not the big salary or the prestige. There was nothing I could give you but me and I was too stupid to do even that.

So, I was angry and you were angry and I let you go. We both thought we were going to go out and do good.

I just wish we could have done it together.

**xxx**

You're right. We never were together when the shit hit the fan.

I'm so sorry for that.

I want you to know that I always felt guilty I wasn't the one to tell you about President Bartlet's MS. That I wasn't there for you in Gaza. That there were things you had to hear about and live through when I wasn't there.

There were so many times that I wanted to protect you. Yes, I wanted to protect you.

There, I said it. Josh Lyman, ultimate screw-up, thought enough to want to protect someone else.

I just wasn't able to do it.

I always thought that maybe that was why you left. Because I wasn't able to protect you like I should have. That I wasn't there in Gaza and you suffered all that pain because of me.

I'm sorry.

**xxx**

Matt Santos will be a great president. Just watch. I knew he was the real thing when I met with him that first time. I felt the same way I did those years ago when I went to see President Bartlet for the first time.

He will go on to do great things. Just wait and see, Donna. Great things will happen.

Don't hate him for what happened. Join him if you can. You have an incredible mind and a wonderful heart and you shouldn't spend your life running from what you know you can do.

Go back to Washington and fight the good fight. We need more people like Donna Moss there. Being a librarian, even for the President, (while it is an entertaining thought and does make me laugh) is not your future.

If you have to do it for a reason, do it for me.

**xxx**

Oh yes, the night of the good cop/bad cop routine.

When I think of you, sometimes, I think back to that night. You were hanging out of your window like Rapunzel and the snowballs were flying. I was so angry with you for lying and so proud of you for being strong. And that dress…

You were beautiful, Donna. Did I tell you that? I hope I did. Sometimes I forgot to tell you.

Actually, there were many times I forgot to tell you.

**xxx**

It was the sun, by the way. I saw a flash –the barrel of the gun in the sunlight.

What was I thinking?

It's funny, because what they say is true… time slows down and it allows for a lot of thought.

I thought of Matt Santos and his wife and his children. I thought of all the good he could do and all the things he had left to achieve.

I thought of Dad and Joanie and that it would be nice to see them again.

I thought of Mom and the fact that I was all she had left and I wished I had called her back the night before when she left me a message.

And I thought of you. You were never far from my mind, no matter what I was doing, so it's not that big of a shock that you were in my thoughts. I was sorry that I would hurt you again. You had been through so much and had been so strong. I thought that I had wasted a lot of time when it came to you and that it would probably be my greatest regret.

And I thought about how much I loved you.

But I wasn't afraid. I hope you realize that one day.

**xxx**

I don't really remember much about the hospital.

I remember seeing Leo. I tried to tell him I was sorry I was a disappointment. That I had really tried to make him proud.

And I remember you. I wanted to badly to make sure you knew that I loved you. And that I didn't want to leave you but I couldn't fight any more.

I'm glad you heard me. You were right, I was worrying.

**xxx**

You're sleeping now. Under the blankets, all curled in a ball.

I want to take you in my arms and tell you that it will get easier. In time, things won't hurt so much and one day, you'll wake up and this won't be the first thing you think about in the morning.

Don't ask me how I know, but I know these things.

**xxx**

When you talk to Sam again, tell him that I remember Gage Whitney. That it's funny the things you learn. And you remember.

Tell C.J. that I'm not angry about the fact she got Leo's job. That she's really doing wonderful and she needs to hold her head up. She's incredible and she needs to remember that.

Let Toby know that I'm not mad. I understand now and I'm not mad.

**xxx**

There are a lot of things I regret, Donna. Things I didn't do and didn't say. Or, being me, things I did do and did say.

There are things I don't regret, though.

The first is taking that step when I saw the gun. One day, I hope you'll understand why I did it. I'd do it again, if I had to. Let's just say that for once, I didn't completely screw up.

The second is that you weren't with us in Philadelphia. Because I can look at you, safe in that bed, under that old quilt, in my giant, blue pajamas and know that tomorrow is another day for you. I can hold that next to my heart and be thankful.

I don't regret either of those things.

**xxx**

I think of New Hampshire, too, sometimes.

I think back to that day when I walked into my office and found a scared, strong, beautiful woman talking on my phone.

I think that it was the best day of my life.

**xxx**

I miss you, Donnatella. And I'll never stop watching over you.

Keep writing in that journal.

I'll keep sitting by your bed watching you sleep.


End file.
